


give me all your hopeless hearts

by twilightstargazer



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, I Am Dead Inside, Smut, post 3x05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 13:25:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6081009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twilightstargazer/pseuds/twilightstargazer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘I don’t take orders from you, Clarke,’ he snarls at her.</p><p>‘That’s right, you don’t. You make bad decisions on your own,’ she tells him and he thrusts into her, hard and fast, hips snapping into hers and she winces a little, even as she pulls his mouth to her and moans out loud.</p><p>or, a retelling of that scene that left me curled in the fetal position</p>
            </blockquote>





	give me all your hopeless hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Anon on tumblr said: 'ok but in those unreleased stills there's a bed in the background imagine them putting it to use in some angry sex insted of whatever that painful ending was' and then this happened ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> (unbeataed)

‘Enough!’ he cuts her off, voice hard and sharp, ‘You are not in charge here Clarke. And that’s a god thing because people die when you’re in charge.’

She does no good in hiding her wince and Bellamy notices, taking a step closer. ‘You were willing to let a bomb drop on my sister,’ he snarls at her, drawing out another cringe as her eyes begin to sting. ‘You made a deal with Lexa who left us to die in Mount Weather and forced us to kill everyone who helped us!’

It’s like a slap to the face and it has her blinking tears out of her eyes. He takes another step forward, landing them toe to toe without even an inch of personal space between them. ‘She forced us to kill people who trusted me, Clarke. Children. Innocents.’

‘Oh, so now you care about innocents?’ she snaps back at him. ‘I saw what you and Pike did, Bellamy. You massacred the army that was sent to protect you!’

‘I didn’t have a choice,’ he grinds out, stoic mask falling in place but doing nothing to hide the emotions warring against each other in his eyes. ‘I did it for our people. _My_ people.’

‘You always have a choice, Bellamy!’ she yells at him, shoving him hard in his chest that he has to take a step backwards. ‘There’s always a choice and you chose to murder the people sent to help you in cold blood. Don’t pull that ‘doing it for our people’ bullshit on me.’

He laughs, bitter and harsh. ‘They were there to help us now, but what happens when Lexa decides to have a change of heart, huh? She’s done it before, who’s to say she’s not going to do it again, and so help me god I will not stand by idle and let her people kill mine!’

‘She’s changed!’ Clarke says, stepping into him so that their chests were pressed together. ‘And apparently so have you. I thought you were better than this Bellamy.’

‘Fuck you Clarke,’ he snarls, voice low and noses brushing. This close she can make out almost each individual freckle that dusts his face, the flush crawling beneath his skin. She can feel the way his chest rises and falls with his anger, and the way his eyes seem to darken when he leans in even closer and mutters, ‘Fuck. You,’ enunciating each word clearly and conveying just about a hundred different emotions behind them.

She doesn’t know what else to say, her train of thought coming to an abrupt stop the moment he crowded into her, so instead she closes her fists around the collar of his jacket and snaps, ‘Yeah, well, fuck you too,’ right before she pulls him forward and seals her mouth over his.

It’s vicious and almost borderline painful the way she crashes her mouth against his. Bellamy stands frozen for a second, unresponsive beneath her until she sinks her teeth into his bottom lip, and then he’s at it, one hand banding around her ribcage while the other goes straight to her hair. For a moment she swears she tastes blood, the metallic tang of iron settling heavily on her tongue as she licks into his mouth without any finesse whatsoever, but it’s quickly replaced by the taste of his slight groan as she accidentally digs her nails into his collarbone.

The hand in her hair tightens as he uses it to change the angle of the kiss to whatever is better suited to him. The sharp sting of pain sends something sweet and dark through her, causing Clarke to tilt her hips against his and a breathy whine escapes past her lips.

Bellamy breaks the kiss, but doesn’t pull away from her entirely. His eyes have gone almost entirely black and his mouth is swollen and cherry red. ‘What are you doing, Clarke?’ he asks, mask back in place and she wants to scream.

‘We were fighting.’

He snorts. ‘Really,’ he says, flatly. ‘And now?’

Clarke knows what he’s trying to do; he’s trying to wheedle out whether or not she was doing this just to get back at him, just to get him to do what she wants him to again. So instead of answering, she steps back a little and pulls off her shirt in one fluid movement, trying not to smirk when his eyes predictably drop to her chest.

‘And now,’ she says, pushing his jacket off his shoulders so that it falls to the ground. He’s stiff under her hands, face still impassive. ‘We’re doing something else.’

‘Do you think you want this?’ he asks, gravelly, clenching his hands into fists at his sides and throwing the tendons of his forearm into sharp relief.

She flashes him a smile that’s all teeth. ‘I think you do,’ she says lightly, tracing her hands down the planes of his chest, still covered by his threadbare t shirt.

He catches her roaming hands and forces them down and away from his body. ‘Answer the fucking question, Clarke.’

She sends him another grin, more feral than the last and then rocks forward on the balls of her feet just so that she could take his earlobe between her teeth, tugging on it hard. ‘Fuck me,’ she tells him and then he’s pulling her forward by her hips, and catching her mouth once again, hard and hot.

Her hands dive into his hair, mussing it up and he roughly presses his weight into her, moulding her against his body. He grabs hold of her hair again, using it to wrench her head back so he could suck a line down her throat and Clarke moans at the pleasure-pain that courses through her veins. ‘You’re so infuriating,’ he growls against her skin, teeth scraping along her pulse before he laves his tongue against it.

‘And you’re such a dick,’ she breathes in response, canting her hips up once more and feeling his cock twitch through the fabric of his trousers. She can’t help the smirk that grows on her face and she repeats the motion, feeling him groan against her neck. ‘What’s the matter, Bellamy? Arguing turn you on?’ She does it again and his hand flexes against her hip.

He growls again, and this time he pushes her back so that he knees hit the back of the bed. Once again, he leans his weight into her, his knee slotting between her thighs as he roughly pushes her into the bed.

‘Insufferable,’ he hisses before slamming his mouth back against hers for a brief kiss. His tongue curls into her mouth and he grinds his knee up against her cunt in a motion that has her arching up against him. Bellamy pulls away, claiming her bottom lip between his teeth and tugging on it hard enough to make her mewl.

‘You always have to get the last word in, don’t you?’ she says through heavy breaths as they scramble to get his shirt off. She makes a pleased sound when it’s finally gone, running her hand appreciatively across his muscles.

‘Would you like me to flex for you?’ he smirks and presses his knee against her once more, watching as her eyelids flutter and breath catch.

‘I would like you to shut up but we both know that that’s not going to happen,’ she snaps before wiggling a hand between them and undoing the button of his pants. He catches her hand before it could sneak into his boxers however and pushes it up on the bed, above her head.

‘I don’t think so, Clarke,’ he tells her while she fights to get her wrists free. He mouths his way down to her chest, sucking kisses against the flesh that threatens to overspill from the cups of her bra. ‘At least not until I’m down with you,’ he says before undoing her bra with just a flick of his wrist and then throwing it across the room.

He leans down and takes one pert nipple in his mouth while he drops a hand to the other, tugging and sucking, biting and pinching, until she’s writhing beneath him, gasping. The sight has him grinding his dick against her leg and she drops a hand to tug at his hair.

‘Like that, don’t you, Clarke?’ he quips, smiling darkly before sucking on her breast even harder, hard enough to leave a bruise that would last for days.

‘I-’ but she can’t reply, not when his hand abandons her breast to slip into her pants and begins to stroke her gently through her underwear.

Bellamy grins triumphantly. ‘What’s that? Have I rendered the mighty Wanheda speechless at last?’

‘Go fuck yourself,’ she gasps and he grinds the heel of his palm directly in to her pussy, tutting slightly.

‘Too bad because I’m already fucking you,’ he says before sinking his teeth into her breast and she moans out loud at the feeling, the sound echoing through the chambers. He finds her clit and rubs at it, slow hard circles that quickly have her keening. Just when she feels like she’s going to fall off the precipice, he pulls back, pulling his hand out of her pants as he straddles one leg.

‘What the fuck,’ she breathes, glaring at him through the haze that surrounds her. ‘Why did you fucking stop?’

‘Calm down,’ he snaps back at her, gripping the lip of her leggings and pulling them off in one fluid motion. She shifts beneath him to make it easier, hoping that it would speed things up, but instead he just chuckles and takes his sweet time pulling off her last remaining article of clothing, sliding her panties off so slow it was almost as though he was unwrapping a present.

‘Get on with it,’ she says.

‘You’re so fucking pushy, has anyone ever told you that?’ he says in return, and then he sucks two of his fingers in his mouth, causing her to groan and throw her head back against the bed.

‘Fuck you,’ she moans, though it comes out slightly muffled because her head is pushed on its side into a pillow.

‘So you’ve said,’ he replies wryly and then she feels his hands against her again, warm and wet with his spit as he lubes her up, slowly pressing a finger into her. It doesn’t take long for her to come like that, with his fingers crooked inside her and his mouth against her neck, and he does nothing to draw it out. He pulls back once she’s coming down, body flushed though still feeling the coil of something in her stomach, not as tight as before, but still there and she rubs her thighs together, feeling the slickness gathered there.

Clarke reaches out and undoes the clasp on his pants, scrambling to push them and his boxers down. ‘Bellamy come on. I need, I need-’

‘Yeah, yeah, I get it,’ he says, batting her hands away as she tries to stroke him.

‘Hurry _up_ , Bellamy.’

‘I don’t take orders from you, Clarke,’ he snarls at her, even as he rubs her cock against her, getting it slick with her arousal.

‘That’s right, you don’t. You make bad decisions on your own,’ she tells him and he thrusts into her, hard and fast, hips snapping into hers and she winces a little, even as she pulls his mouth to her and moans out loud.

He sets the pace like that, hard and fast, and not once do they take their mouths off each other, moving from kissing to just breathing into the other. Bellamy lets himself go like he hasn’t done so before, fucking into her almost punishingly hard so that the bed jostles with each thrust. It causes something dark and bitter to curl in his veins and he ignores it, choosing instead to snap his hips into hers harder and harder.

Clarke gives as good as she gets however, grinding up against him and clenching her walls in a way that’s only partially intentional to create a vice like grip on his cock as it slides out. Her nails leave scratches down his back, and she’s almost sure she draws blood from him. She bites his lip and tastes blood again, though this time she licks it clean.

It’s not supposed to be like this- she knows it’s not supposed to be like this- but she does it anyway, craving the feel of him surrounding her as though this was the first and last time. A sob bubbles up in her throat but she holds it in, choosing instead to focus on the wet slap of skin on skin, the way he breathes into her neck and grips her hips so hard that she’s bound to have bruises later.

‘Look at me,’ she tells him, catching his jaw in her palm and tilting towards her. He can never hide the emotions in his eyes, and what she sees there almost breaks her heart. Instead though, she pulls him down to her, kissing him gently in startling contrast to the rough way she has him fucking her.

She feels her orgasm fast approaching, and she finds his hand without once breaking the kiss, squeezing it just as gently as though she was afraid he would break.

When she comes it’s with his mouth fused against hers in a messy kiss and their hands linked together and she moans something that sounds suspiciously like his name. Bellamy comes right after her, growling low into her mouth and almost collapsing on top of her.

They each take a moment to catch their breath, and Clarke finds herself carding a hand through his hair while he presses soft kisses to her jaw.

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispers once he’s rolled off of her and they’re both lying side by side. ‘I’m sorry for leaving, but I knew I could,’ she makes eye contact with him and squeezes their linked hands, ‘Because they had you.’

Bellamy reaches out and brushes the hair out of her face, just like he did that day when he found her in the subway station. ‘I’m sorry too,’ he rumbles.

She smiles at him, soft and tentative. ‘I know we can fix this,’ she tells him, and them regrets it immediately when the mask slips back on to his face.

‘No we can’t,’ he says, and then pulls his hand out of hers, tugging on his pants.

‘Bellamy what-” she falters, watching him get dressed quickly and picking up her clothes too. ‘What are you doing?’ her voice cracks and she hates it.

‘You should go,’ he says throwing the clothes at her without looking.

‘Bellamy-’ she tries again, feeling her eyes begin to water and this time she does nothing to stop the lone tear from spilling out.

‘Get out of here Clarke, before I have to do something that I’ll regret,’ he tells her, a bit of a plea sneaking into his voice.

‘Please, I-’ Bellamy doesn’t stick around to acknowledge her anymore, shoving his feet back in his boots and stomping out the door, letting it fall shut behind him.

Only after it slams shut does Clarke begin to cry in earnest, shaking and shuddering as she slowly gets dressed, waiting on Octavia to return and sneak her back out again.

**Author's Note:**

> Come cry with me on [tumblr](http://hiddenpolkadots.tumblr.com/)


End file.
